The dream came again.
Arien stood in a field of ash. The sky above was a sheet of flame, endless and slow. Beneath her feet, bones whispered as she walked. But this time, she wasn't alone.
A woman stood in the distance—tall, wrapped in smoke, her eyes glowing like embers. She had no mouth, yet Arien heard her clearly.
> "You carry the seed of what was never meant to be born."
Arien clenched her fists. "Who are you?"
> "A memory of a goddess who burned herself to sleep. You are my echo."
The sky cracked.
Fire poured down in rivers.
> "Ashir thought he could control me. He was wrong. You opened the door, child. Now you must decide… will you close it? Or become it?"
She woke gasping.
Kael was already at her side, sword in hand. "What happened?"
"I saw her," Arien said. "The goddess. The real one."
Joss muttered from across the camp. "Oh, good. More cryptic dream visions. That's always fun."
Maev approached. "Was it Her—the Mother Flame?"
Arien nodded. "She said I'm her echo. That I have to choose."
Maev looked grim. "The Flame Goddess was sealed away for a reason. If she rises again…"
"She won't," Arien said, though her voice wavered. "I won't let her."
Later, as they crossed the charred plains of Old Velan, Kael walked beside Arien.
"Do you believe her?" he asked.
"I believe something inside me is waking," she said. "And it's older than all of us."
Kael nodded. "Then we need to be ready. Because the gods... they don't share power. Not without burning everything down."
Arien didn't respond. She was listening—to the voice inside her chest.
It wasn't speaking in words.
It was sin
ging.
And the song sounded like a war drum wrapped in fire.